


A Passionate Kiss

by cozywilde



Series: Smoochtober [9]
Category: Flight Rising
Genre: Cooking, Other, Rough Kissing, Showing Off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-11-28 19:55:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20972171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cozywilde/pseuds/cozywilde
Summary: Daniikhi has been looking for Yolokaliin everywhere.





	A Passionate Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> [Daniikhi](https://toyhou.se/5110444.daniikhi), a fey who is the embodiment of fire  
[Yolokaliin](https://toyhou.se/4285506.yolokaliin), a demon of ignition

He’s not at the volcano where they’d last met. Not at the forest fire blazing nearby. Not at the next-largest fire in the vicinity, which happens to be a bonfire for a celebration of some kind - thankfully, most of the partygoers ringing it seem to be inebriated enough to assume a figure appearing in the middle of the fire is just their imaginations running away with them. Not that they could have stopped Daniikhi, but it would have been irritating to deal with in their current mood. 

No, when Daniikhi finds Yolokaliin, he’s tossing blades in the air in a show for an excited, awestruck group. He is at least standing over a flat-top grill, but the fire is pathetically small compared to what Daniikhi knows he can command. They send their own hair sparking higher as if to compensate for it, and move in closer. 

The people Yolokaliin is showing off for let Daniikhi through easily, only making startled sounds after they’ve seen them pass. Perhaps they should tone down their appearance, but it’s never really been their strongest suit, especially with emotions running high. 

Yolokaliin’s blades are still flashing, but with a degree of utility now, chopping up stacks of meats and vegetables sizzling on his grill. As they watch, he cups his hands over a stack of sliced onions, glancing toward the audience with an almost conspiratorial smile, inviting them to enjoy his trick. 

His showman’s grin stutters a bit, mouth opening on an ‘O’ of surprise, when he sees Daniikhi standing in front of him. As a result, the rush of flames from under his palms is perhaps a bit more exuberant than he had planned, but he laughs off the charred mess his onion has become, deftly pushing it off the grill and snatching up another to slice. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” he says, not even bothering to look down at the quick chops of his blade. “Come to see the show?” 

“I came to see you,” Daniikhi corrects. 

Yolokaliin grins, tossing the fresh onion in the air. It appears whole for a moment, then falls into a neat stack of slices on the grill that draws oohs and ahhs from the crowd. “And what could you want from little old me? 

“I think you know,” Daniikhi says, fiery hair crackling with heat at their ire. Yolokaliin knows how impatiently Daniikhi burns through the paper-thin threads of their patience. And yet, they persist with these little taunts, stoking the flames higher. Even stranger, Daniikhi enjoys it. 

“Do I?” Yolokaliin muses. He folds his hands over the freshly-sliced onion like he had before, but this time his eyes stay locked on Daniikhi’s as he pushes out flames between his palms, a burst of heat that sears both the onions and the last shreds of Daniikhi’s control. 

With a growl, Daniikhi surges forward, one hand sinking into the molten mess of Yolokaliin’s hair, the other balancing against the grill. The crowd’s gasps and cries of shock are vaguely there in the background, but of course it doesn’t burn Daniikhi; they  _ are  _ fire. They pull Yolokaliin in to meet him in a crush of lips over the grill, breathing sparks into his open mouth. 

He doesn’t stay surprised for long. Yolokaliin starts to move with them, meeting their sparks with a lava-hot tongue. Hot, but teasing - Daniikhi tugs at their handful of his hair, something that never fails to make him whine. Precious few can touch it; Daniikhi is one of them, and they take full advantage of it. They lick into his open mouth, pressing as close as they can get to him with the barrier of the grill between them. The rhythm they fall into is all the more infuriating for the separation, something Daniikhi needs gone  _ yesterday _ . 

Daniikhi bites Yolokaliin’s lip as they draw back, only letting go when his gasps start to have an edge of pain. He looks wonderfully disheveled, somehow; molten hair shouldn’t be able to be in disarray, but somehow it manages to. Daniikhi is sure their own is blazing like a small sun. 

“Are you finished with your show?” Daniikhi asks, trying for level and utterly failing. They hold out their hand, a clear invitation.

Yolokaliin grins and says, “With this one,” as he takes it.


End file.
